Dragons and Heroes
by skyfire146
Summary: "Stupid things," as Aveline says, but the very same things that a little girl will dream of. A collection of oneshots that tell the story of the heroes of Thedas- and the dragons they faced. Everything from crack fiction to angst and, basically, my melting pot of ideas. 2-Because, at the end of the day, Hawke will be Hawke and Anders will be tempted. F!Hawke/Anders fluff
1. Of Plans That Don't Quite Work

Well, hello. This is the result of my Dragon Age obsession- a collection of one-shots in which I can dump all the various ideas and inspirations that pop into my head and will not leave until I write them. I simply love these games- the plot, the characters, the world itself- and could not resist writing some fanfiction. This will include characters/plot/events from Origins, Awakening, and Dragon Age II. I haven't really done any of the DLCs, but I guess, if I do, then that may be added in here as well.

**What to Expect: **As far as pairings go, there will be much F!Cousland/Alistair and F!Hawke/Anders. I like a good amount of other pairings as well, though, and I may switch it around. I'm considering some F!Cousland/Nathaniel and F!Hawke/Cullen as well, so… Who knows? I also may write oneshots based off quotes from the games- as I played, I made a note of any quotes that I really liked/may want to write something from, so I should have some material to work with. I like simple character studies as well, so I may pick a character and explore. There will be everything from crack fiction to the angstiest angst (as angsty as I can make it without crying myself to sleep). Also, expect Rouge!Cousland, Snarky!Hawke, and lots of fangirling in the author's notes. Yay! So, here's the first oneshot.

* * *

**Title: **Of Plans that Don't Quite Work

**Summary: **When Wynne found him hidden behind a giant column, she wondered at the sanity of the new king. But he has a reputation to maintain and he means to take it seriously. Mentioned Alistair/Elissa

**Background: **This is what I imagined as the awkward stage for Alistair and Elissa after the whole "Let's break up so I can have an heir and not cheat on my wife" ending. Alistair and Elissa obviously are going to bump into each other (even with Alistair as king and Elissa as Warden-Commander). This is one such instance in which talking to each other is unavoidable… Well, Alistair does his best.

**Notes: **This spawned from a quote I pulled off Alistair during one of the conversations while we were walking around. He commented that "I never said it was a good plan" and I gathered that Alistair is not particularly skilled at planning. Hence, this little oneshot. Also, I wanted to include some Motherly!Wynne because I love her so much. She did not ever stop talking, but I loved her for it. Lastly (maybe), I couldn't have him marry Anora instead of Elissa. Maker, I just… despise her too much. And she supposedly could be unable to have kids (her and Cailan didn't have any and I guess there's some note or something at Ostagar that hints it) and Alistair needs kids. So… I chose another character. Just to let you guys know. OC that I may or may not end up developing... I don't know. But, that's why I stuck her in there instead of Anora.

**One Last Note: **Also, I chose the male default name for the mabari. I couldn't think of a name… And Aedan stuck. I also blame Crime Scene Fairy for giving me the idea in her bio. Heehee, thanks, Fairy!

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Wynne first realized that something was not right when she noticed that 1) there was food on the table and 2) King Alistair was nowhere to be seen.

Yes, this was quite troubling indeed. It was the one year anniversary of the killing of the archdemon and the end of the fifth Blight, an occasion to truly be celebrated with the great hall of the Royal Palace was filled with food and guests and music. Lords, ladies, and soldiers were all present, enjoying in the festivities, and many of the most notable heroes of the war were present, even the Hero of Ferelden herself. Wynne had barely had time to exchange words with her before the Warden-Commander was whisked away by some arl or bann or old war friend who wished to talk with her. The Lady Elissa was quite in demand, it seemed.

And, yet, for all the festivities and celebration, the King of Ferelden had yet to show his face. And that was where Wynne came in.

After fifteen straight minutes of searching (and avoiding a fairly drunk Oghren as he attempted to incoherently explain to her exactly why he still had pants on- strangely enough, this information was useful because she had just been wondering the same thing), she finally found him behind a column in the corner of one of the smaller rooms. He sat sprawled with his back to the stone and a very familiar-looking mabari's head in his lap as the dog drooled slightly on Alistair's impressive-looking attire. Wynne supposed that she should have known better then to trust Alistair to keep those clothes clean. The boy was always a mess.

"Your majesty, may I ask what you are doing over here?"

"Oh, Wynne," the Warden King muttered in surprise, eyes widening slightly. "Hello. Enjoying the party?"

"Yes, very much so," the mage advisor responded curtly, sending quite the stern look Alistair's way. "I was only wondering why you too were not."

"Oh, Maker's Breath, Wynne, I can explain," he eyed her nervously, hand scratching lightly behind the mabari's ears as he did so. "No need to get out that scary-looking face that you do when you…" Seeing her look intensifying, he hastily moved on, tripping over his own tongue. "You know what? Never mind. I'll just explain what's going on. You see, this is what's wrong. Elissa's here."

"Yes, but you can hardly be surprised at that," she replied, eyebrow still lifted skeptically.

"I'm not," he answered hurriedly and the mabari's head lifted up as he panted, perhaps even because he caught his master's name in the conversation. "It's just that… Eamon suggested that I announced my engagement to Elayne tonight. And I know that it is the right thing to do. The anniversary of the Blight and the announcement of a Queen, which could mean an heir soon, maybe. There couldn't be a more perfect time. But…"

"You must talk to Elissa beforehand," Wynne filled in where Alistair faltered and he nodded. "Everyone will be looking toward her when the announcement is made. Your past… involvement is not exactly a secret."

"Hm," the king grumbled, looking down to scratch under the dog's chin. "It's one of the worst kept secrets in Ferelden. I wonder how it got out anyway. It's not like having a drunk Ohgren is a liability or anything." Hesitation then marred his face as he paused in his scratching. "But, I do not know what to say to her. It will be an… awkward conversation, to put it mildly."

"So, then," Wynne looked at him appraisingly, expression quite skeptical. "Your formulated plan was to hide over here until… you knew what to say? Or until I came to find you?"

"I never said it was a good plan," he muttered, even a touch sulkily. Aedan whined from his lap and Wynne wondered when on earth the dog had started taking a liking to him. During their campaign, he had always seemed particularly suspicious of Alistair. It had been most amusing.

"Well, you can start by bringing her hound back to her," Wynne ushered the king into a standing position, her voice taking a no-nonsense kind of tone. "And I know that you will find the right thing to say, Alistair. You always do, somehow."

"Hm, and I always thought that everyone found me terribly awkward," he joked, adjusting his clothes and seeming to realize, for the first time, the drool that he had on his pants. "Oh, of course. Just when I thought the thing was starting to like me. I knew I should have just worn my amour. It would be formal enough. But, no, apparently armor's not supposed to be suitable for a celebration like this. Maker, I wouldn't want to remind anyone of war in any way!"

A happy Aedan simply wagged his tail side-to-side at a scowling Alistair.

"Your majesty, you will find her and talk to her as soon as possible, will you not?" Wynne started to straighten Alistair's clothes for him, adjusting his collar and smoothing out the fabric. He was so very messy. "She is like a granddaughter to me, just as you are like a grandson, and I do not wish her to be taken by surprise with this. She will be hurt."

Alistair seemed to turn sober almost immediately and he looked down, seeming frustrated. With himself or with the world or with her, Wynne was not sure, but he was almost angry. "By the Maker, I would never mean to do that. I've held it off as long as I could. The country needs a Queen and, well, it's not as if this is easy for me either-"

"Alistair. You do not have to justify your actions to me."

"Yes, but, I just, I do not want to be around her just because- because I _want_ to be around her so badly and Elayne is here as well, so I do not want to make things awkward and-"

"She is made of tougher stuff, Alistair, and you know it," Wynne soothed him and his shoulders did seem to stop tensing for a few seconds. "As long as you warn her about it beforehand, she will be fine."

He sighed, rubbing his temples for a few seconds before continuing. "Yes. You're right, Wynne. She will act in her typical Elissa way and pretend that it is nothing and, by the time I make the announcement; she will have already composed herself. She will do what is necessary."

"And you will as well," she reminded him gently. He looked down only to see Aedan looking right back up at him and he looked elsewhere.

"I only wish that what was necessary was not so painful."

Wynne smiled softly, showing a crack in her stern façade. "It almost always is, Your Majesty."

"Very well," he rubbed his hands together, seeming to shake off the conversation with a shrug of his shoulders. "Then I will be on my way. Do me a favor and… Tell everyone of this!" He grinned broadly, looking for all the world like a boy again and Wynne remembered a time when he would have moped much more about this. He was growing up- or perhaps was already grown up. She could not decide. "I must keep up my image of being a scared little boy who hides from the women in his life."

He left as Wynne hid a wry smile, but he came back only seconds later, sticking his head around the column. "By the way, that was a joke. Just in case. So, please don't tell anyone. Especially the dwarves. They'll never let me drink ale with them again." He looked thoughtful. "Although, I suppose that wouldn't be a bad thing. Anyway, thanks!"

Wynne shook her head affectionately. She tried her best with him, but she could only do so much. For a Grey Warden and a king, he was awfully silly.

* * *

Well, that's it! Reviews are welcome! Just let me know what you like/would like to see and I'll see if I can't put that oneshot near the top of my list. Like I said, I have a lot of ideas floating around and not much prioritizing done, so... I'm open.

Thanks for reading! May the Maker watch over you! :D

**Added Note: **Whenever characters would say that (May the Maker watch over you), I always immediately think of Star Wars (May the Force be with you). Especially when Duncan said it. Maybe that's because I envision him as the Qui-Gon Jin of Thedas. I feel like that's pretty accurate. Maybe.


	2. Tease

**Title: **Tease

**Summary: **Because, at the end of the day, Hawke will be Hawke and Anders will be tempted. She doesn't let him ever forget that. Anders/F!Hawke

**Background: **This takes place at some point after the trip into the Deep Roads, but before the whole "Champion of Kirkwall" business.

**Notes: **My version of Marian Hawke is quite mischievous (because I feel like the character design just looks like she should be snarky and sarcastic) and quite confident (because I feel as if the events in the game kind of require her to at least look like she knows what she's doing). And, Anders… I do love that boy. Although I do want to just hit him over the head sometimes… But doesn't everyone? Anyway, I forget my inspiration for this one because I started it so long ago and just finished it now. I'm in the middle of playing Origins right now. You know, instead of writing my extremely important paper on some philosopher or something. Oh, priorities. I'm really bad at them. Also, yes, I've updated. I felt inspired. As you will see in this oneshot, I'm like Hawke. I do what I want. :D

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Hawke would not deny the fact that she liked watching Anders work.

It was a good way to spend her day. When she was bored, she bothered others and Anders was the perfect person to bother. Or perhaps it was just that, considering her other options, Anders and his clinic was the one place that she actually stayed out of trouble (with companions like Isabella and Varric, it didn't exactly come as a surprise to her when she got in a few scrapes). Two or three times a week, she would take her various letters and job opportunities and spend a few hours writing correspondences or organizing her schedule, all while "keeping an eye on Anders", in her own words.

But there was something interesting in seeing him at his most charitable. Most days, she just saw him as Anders, the slightly eccentric, sometimes moody, freedom-fighting mage that had a soft spot for small adorable felines. The days that she saw him at his work, she saw Anders the serious. Anders the ex-Grey Warden. Anders the healer.

Not that she didn't sometimes see that on the battlefield, but it was nice to see it without having to simultaneous fight off bandits or mercenaries or random thugs that roamed the streets or, Maker forbid, darkspawn.

But, today, she stayed until the end, just to see how he held up at the end of the day. And, at the end of day, when the last patient had left, he sighed and fell backwards on one of the cots that was set up, lying motionless for a few moments.

"Oh, Anders. Anders, Anders, Anders."

"Yes, Hawke?"

"You do yourself no favors, working yourself to the bone like that. It's enough to make a compassionate and caring friend worry."

She could hear the grin in Anders' voice. "Well, if I happen to get any of those any time soon, remind me not to let them see me like this." After a pause, he continued. "Besides, this is just a momentary break. There's always the night rush. And why are you here so late? You usually leave by dinner time."

Hawke cleared her throat, adjusting herself in his chair, which, to be honest, could be a bit more comfortable. She resolved to mention that to him later. "Do you want the real answer, or just a witty and sarcastic remark from my repertoire of witty and sarcastic remarks?"

"Hm. Difficult choice, but… I feel like I just got one of those same remarks that you just described."

Hawke grinned broadly. "Yes, I suppose you did.

"You are a very difficult woman, Marian. I hope you know that."

She rifled through her pile of letters absent-mindedly, gathering her things to go. She had a habit of over-stepping, especially with Anders, and she knew that it was past time to leave. "Touché, Anders. You're not exactly a cakewalk either."

"Yes, I suppose the whole spirit demon thing is rather a handful at times."

Hawke lifted an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Well, I was referring to your inability to simply choose one cat, but, now that you mention it, I suppose that other thing is rather concerning as well."

"Hey," the apostate protested, sitting up to grin at her. "Those cats are not specifically mine. They're just strays. Passing through, you know."

"Yes, because they know that there's a big softie here who will feed them whenever they want," she responded tartly, giving him a knowing look as she rose, her papers collected. "Oh, you silly boy, you."

"You're leaving then?"

His questioning tone stopped her and she glanced at him, blue eyes narrowed slightly, but her voice kept light. "Well, I have achieved my objective and seen that you were not unconscious by the end of the day. Unless, of course, you wanted me to stay and we could have mad sex until the sun came up." Looking thoughtful, she glanced outside to see how dark it was. "I'd say that we have plenty of time."

"Marian."

"A joke, dear Anders," she laughed at his stern face, although it was a tad bit tenser and a shade lighter than it usually was. She did love to make him uncomfortable. "It was only a joke. We've had this talk. Crazy spirit demon thing inside you. Don't worry, I get it."

He grumbled, looking grumpy as he walked over to his desk, which was now left unoccupied. "Well, you have a habit of not exactly making it easy."

"Really?" Hawke raised an eyebrow sleekly at this interesting piece of information. She had never before thought twice about teasing Anders about all manner of things- in fact, it was one of her favorite sports. Varric always gave as good as he got, Aveline was too dense, Merrill was mainly just confused, Isabela had no shame, Sebastian was just no fun, and teasing Fenris always had the lingering threat that he might just snap. Anders was somewhere in the middle of that. Just right.

But now that she knew what would get a rise out of him, well… Sometimes she just couldn't resist.

Anders sat down behind his desk and then looked up, face even more apprehensive. "No, Hawke. No. I don't like that tone. Don't get any ideas."

She took a step closer and suddenly couldn't move.

If she could move, she would have made a sour face. She didn't know specifically what kind of spell this was, but it was one that she didn't like, certainly.

Anders looked rather satisfied with himself too. "None of your shenanigans about this, Hawke. I mean it. Go mess with someone else. I'm sure 'Bela would welcome it."

_I don't want 'Bela. I want you._

But she remained motionless, obviously.

"I'm going to let you go and then you're going to behave like a nice, little Hawke because that's what you are. Right, then?" However, he stepped back for a moment first, admiring his handiwork and looking quite amused. "This is pretty fun, actually. I should do this more often."

_Bastard._

"Although it's not nearly as fun without your witty little comments here and there."

She could move again and she used her new freedom to make quite the childish face at him. "You're no fun."

Anders shrugged. "You only say that because I was the one in control. It was fun for me."

She raised as eyebrow, crossing her arms. "What can I say? I like to be in control."

Anders shook his head at her suggestive tone. "You are incorrigible."

She grinned broadly, her dark hair flopping over her face as she turned to go. "Only to you, Anders, darling."

He paused in his paper arranging, eyes lingering over her frame in the doorway, sword worn so confidently and dark hair cut messily. He worried about her. He shouldn't because she was one of the most capable people he had ever met, but he did. "You know, Hawke, one of these days, you're going to have to stop just doing whatever you want."

She turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Yeah? And what exactly are you doing, oh wise mage?"

He smiled wryly, looking away. "Yeah, well, I'm already a lost cause."

"Then make that two lost causes," her mouth twisted into a grin. "If a mighty Grey Warden mage has already given up, then what chance did a poor refugee like me ever have, huh?"

"I think we both know that you've a completely different story, Marian," he answered, sounding incredulous. Marian Hawke's story was unlike anyone's he had ever heard. She got screwed over and then she fought until got what she wanted. That was her story.

She looked thoughtful, crossing her arms. "Maybe you should try to be as charming as me."

"I don't think I quite have the figure for that."

She shrugged. "Maybe if you just loosened up a bit."

"I am loosened," he insisted in that childish way that he occasionally slipped into.

"Nope."

"Ask anyone, Hawke. I'm pretty sure I'm _the_ loosest."

Her eyes raked over him for a moment and his body tensed as she took a few steps towards him, leaning over the desk to grab the collar of his shirt. Those blue eyes killed him, so bright and cunning and so _Hawke _that it hurt. And, then, their eyes only inches apart, he saw her wink, face positively bursting with glee.

"Gotcha."

And, in the back of his mind, Anders remembered that Hawke always got what she wanted.

He was so screwed.


End file.
